


Meadow Flowers

by laetificat



Category: Red Dead Redemption
Genre: Headcanon, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-09
Updated: 2018-12-09
Packaged: 2019-09-14 20:48:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16920129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laetificat/pseuds/laetificat
Summary: A headcanon/drabble for Bill and Kieran.Major spoilers for Chapter 4.





	Meadow Flowers

**Author's Note:**

> so this happened because someone on the RDR discord I’m in suggested that Bill/Kieran could be a thing and I can’t stop thinking about it tbh.

Of all of them, Bill’s fanatic loyalty to Dutch would likely drive him to hate that skinny probably-an-O’Driscoll kid the most, right? Hate him and maybe plot to get rid of him on Dutch’s behalf, refusing to trust him, assuming he’s going to turn on them at any minute and show his true colors (Bill knew men like that in his army days, men who talked fine but when your back was turned they were on you like coyotes).

So he’s surprised when Kieran stays with the gang, surprised but still not trusting, so maybe he follows him around a little, makes sure he always knows where he is. Sleeps near him at night. Sits near him at meals. Rides out with him when he goes fishing, even though Bill hates fishing and considers it a waste of time (hunting is quicker and at least you get the satisfaction of shooting something).

And Kieran is keen to show anyone he can that he’s willing to be a member of the gang properly, and though he’s heard stories of Bill’s wildness he doesn’t know him really, so he’s not as wary as he should be and he starts talking. Sharing stories. Asking Bill about himself and listens, honestly, to the answers, in a way that Bill hasn’t experienced in a long time (it’s clear most of them in the gang don’t think much of Bill and avoid him wherever possible, and they think he doesn’t notice – not that he cares).

So Bill finds himself opening up a little, in his way. On a long nighttime ride back from a stagecoach robbery he tells Kieran about his army days – the horrors and the glories, maybe expanding on his own heroics a little. And Kieran asks him why he was discharged, and Bill goes from nothing to raging in half a second and asks him how the hell he knows about that, was he going through his papers? Was he lookin’ at things he has no business lookin’ in, like a goddamn sneak? And Kieran stammers out that Uncle told him about it one night, and Bill hauls his horse to a stop and swings down from the saddle to grab Kieran down from his mount, dragging him down so he scuffs and scrambles in the dusty grass, cursing and yelling about Kieran being a no-good O’Driscoll spy and how he should kill him and leave him right here. And Kieran grabs his wrists and begs for Bill to let him go, that he ain’t going to tell anyone, that it’s ok because he knows what it’s like, he knows, he’s got the same secret, see, it’s been eating him up inside –

And Bill stops dead with his hands in Kieran’s shirt front and says, what the hell do you mean?

And Kieran slowly gathers his feet under him and says, I got the same secret sir, I know what it’s like, to be.. to want..

Bill drops him and steps away, wiping the back of his mouth with his wrist. Says he doesn’t know what the hell Kieran is talking about.

And Kieran straightens up and carefully goes over to Bill, like he’s approaching a wounded beast that he’s not sure is going to turn and bury its claws in his belly. Gently, puts a hand on his shoulder.

Says, we don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want. But I ain’t going to tell your secret, sir, any more than I would my own.

And Bill turns around slowly, breathing hard and nostrils flared, confusion on his face like a bear trying to work out if he’s being hunted. Trying to figure out what angle the kid is driving, what he’s trying to do. He’s not used to someone giving him something he hasn’t already demanded, or taken by force.

Bill squints at him and growls, you really mean that?

The reply: really I do, sir.

And Bill steps in close to him. Says, I should still kill ya.

Kieran sort of takes a breath. Says, are you going to?

And Bill grunts, like he’s considering it. Then says, nah.

Kieran relaxes a little. He runs his hand through his hair. Says, that’s good, ‘cause I wasn’t looking to di –

He doesn’t finish what he’s saying because Bill has sort of lurched forward and is kissing him on the mouth. It’s awkward and sloppy because it’s been years since Bill kissed anyone, but Kieran moans against his lips like a swooning girl anyway. And then they’re both fumbling and pawing at each other, racing to get off their outer layer of clothes, and Bill half-marches Kieran over to a stand of trees and pulls his britches down and presses him up against a trunk of one of them and they fuck like that, clumsy and painful and exhilarating in the feel of being touched at all.

Then afterwards, they sit together and share from Bill’s hip flask, and Bill has one arm around Kieran’s shoulders, almost like he’s afraid Kieran will turn and run away. And in a quiet and broken voice he tells Kieran about the first man he ever loved, maybe the only man he ever loved more than Dutch at least, the man he would have gone to the ends of the Earth for. The man who volunteered himself up for prison when they were both caught in Bill’s tent, on the condition that Bill’s sentence would be reduced. The man who, as far as Bill knows, died alone in that prison, likely wondering if it was worth it.

Kieran doesn’t offer him comfort because they both know how little words like that can help wounds that deep. Instead he sits and listens, and after a while they resume their journey back to the camp and the world that’s waiting for them.

And maybe that’s how it goes for a while. Maybe Bill’s watching over Kieran takes on a faintly protective air, though he never opens up emotionally as much as he did that first time, but they reach a kind of an understanding. There isn’t precisely any trust, but a mutual need that the other can fulfill, or perhaps Kieran making payment in kind for being allowed to stay in the gang, or Bill trying to make some kind of apology. Either way it usually means Kieran on his knees or standing with his trousers around his ankles, gasping and spilling his seed onto the ground as Bill huffs endearments in his ear.

Bill’s treatment of Kieran in camp doesn’t change, more due to the fact that Bill can’t change the habits of a lifetime than any kind of planned deception. Their encounters elsewhere remain separate, like they’re happening to different people. Neither of them expresses the desire to change that.

As the gang’s luck begins to worsen, after that bad business in Rhodes and Arthur getting taken, Bill becomes more and more distracted, until it’s been a while since he’s seen Kieran in camp at all. And once he realises, after asking around, that nobody has seen him, he gets drunker than he has done for a while, taking himself out to a shitty backwater saloon and driving himself towards oblivion with gritted teeth because it’s easier than admitting he’s been deceived. And he’s sure, so sure, that Kieran has betrayed them all, that he was right all along not to trust him fully, that he should have done for him when he had the chance, that he was a fool for hoping –

And then the horse comes riding in to Shady Belle with Kieran’s body on his back, his head gone, those hands that Bill knows so well gone stiff and lifeless as twigs.

And after the gunsmoke has cleared, they bury him in a wide field where birds chase each other over the meadow flowers. 

Bill hangs back beneath the trees and doesn’t approach the grave. Instead he watches for a while, then turns away, thinking that at least there’s one less person in the world that will end up leaving him behind. 

Maybe it’s better that way.


End file.
